


Lemon Cakes and Ginger Snakes

by RedWolf (ninenineandgoseek)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Great British Bake Off Fusion, Baking, Canon typical background tragedy, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Polyamory, Wholesome, gbbo - Freeform, no beta we die like ned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninenineandgoseek/pseuds/RedWolf
Summary: When Sansa gets a call from the Great Westerosi Bake Off, she's not sure whether to thank Arya or kill her. Against her better judgment, Sansa signs up and is chosen to compete. Baking in the tent is stressful enough, but Sansa can't help but notice the baker from Dorne with the Red Viper tattoo...
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand, Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand/Sansa Stark, Oberyn Martell/Sansa Stark
Comments: 68
Kudos: 65





	1. Arriving in the Reach

Sansa gripped her overnight bag tightly as she walked to the train station. Her kitten heels clicked gently on the sidewalk. Dawn crept over the horizon, sending shimmers of pink light onto the snow. 

_ "Look, are you sure you don't want a ride to the station?" Arya asked. "It's supposed to sleet. You'll have to get in a car again someday, Sansa." _

_ "Not tomorrow," Sansa replied.  _

Sansa had chosen her flat in Wintertown based on the fact that it was within easy walking distance of the train station and the bus line. Luckily, there was no sleet this April morning.

Breathe, Sansa thought.  Inhale-one, two, three, four, exhale, five, six, seven, eight.  Sansa loosened her grip on her bag and checked her watch. Plenty of time before the train. 

_"Well, I'm proud of you for going south. I did check, you know, before I put your name in- the application said it would be in the Reach this year. I wouldn't have put your name in if they were having it in the Crownlands." Arya's voice was soft, different than her usual matter-of-fact tone._

_ "I know," Sansa said.  I will never, never go to King's Landing. Never again. _

The train station was quiet. The Friday morning commute wouldn't start for a few hours. Sansa waited patiently on a bench, breathing in the cool air. In the Reach it would be springtime, but here, winter lingered. It had snowed lightly the previous evening, and the air had a gentle bite. 

Sansa's phone buzzed. It had to be Arya, no one else got up this early.

_**Arya** :  this cake is so good _

_** Arya**: seriously _

_** Sansa:** It's not too dry? Too close-textured?  _

_** Arya**: yeah I don't know what that means stop being paranoid _

_** Robb**: It is 6 IN THE MORNING _

Robb was the Responsible Oldest Sibling, but he never got up before he had to. Meanwhile, Arya had probably already finished doing her morning stretches and forms in the small flat she shared with Rickon. 

_** Arya**: and? _

_** Robb**: Why are you texting Sansa in the group text?! I was SLEEPING _

_** Robb**: Wait, how come Arya gets cake for breakfast?  _

_** Bran**: Because she, unlike you, lives in Wintertown. And Arya, close-textured means the cake is too dense or heavy _

_** Robb: ** Why do you have to do that. You know I'm kidding _

_** Arya**: fine, the cake isn't too heavy or dense or whatever. it's good.  _

_** Rickon**: Don't you dare finish it before I get up _

_** Rickon**: I will sic Shaggy on you _

_** Sansa**: Rickon, you can't keep threatening people with the wolves, it's not professional _

_** Rickon**: Your butt isn't professional _

There was no response to that.

Looking up, Sansa saw the train pulling in. Sansa got on, and settled herself in an empty carriage. It would be a long ride. Sansa ran through her itinerary in her head. Wintertown to Winterfell, then take the Kingsroad train to the junction where it met the Riverroad train, then switch to the Searoad train at Casterly Rock. Then get off the Searoad train at Old Oak, and take the Goldengrove Express to her final stop at Goldengrove. Luckily, almost her entire route was on the high speed rail, but it was still going to be an exhausting day, as the trip would be over 14 hours. 

Sansa shivered. She wished she could have avoided Casterly Rock, but at least she would only see the inside of the train station. 

Sansa's phone buzzed again around 9am. 

_** Rickon**: Hey, what's the story again? Mance just asked where you were, and when Tormund told him you took a day off, he looked like he'd been hit with a stick. _

Sansa exhaled slowly. Sansa loved her job as a direwolf recovery coordinator for the Westeros Animal and Plant Health Agency. Direwolves had been almost extinct in the North, but thanks to years of work, the population was beginning to recover. Sansa took her job very seriously, and hadn't missed a day of work since Arya broke her arm in her first MMA match. 

_** Sansa:** Tell him I realized how much unused vacation time I had, and that Arya is forcing me to take Fridays off until I use most of it. _

_** Rickon**: I mean, that's basically true _

_** Sansa**: Exactly _

_** Rickon**: So no telling him about Bake Off?  _

_** Sansa**: If you do, I won't make you any applecakes for a year _

_** Rickon**: [zipped lips emoji] 🤐 _

The Wolfswood Wolf Recovery Center was a small office, and Sansa had worked there since college. Rickon had joined last year. Even before Rickon joined, Mance had met all of her siblings on multiple occasions, and had even been to one of Arya's fights. Arya took great pride in her reputation as a terror, and Sansa used Arya as a convenient excuse when needed. This delighted Arya, who would gleefully remind Sansa how much she hated Arya's obsession with martial arts when they were younger.

* * *

By the time Sansa arrived at the hotel, she had reviewed her recipes for the weekend, read half of a book she had bought on the science of cake, and idly sketched a revised design for one of the bakes next week. 

At 6pm, Sansa left her room. The official dinner, where all the bakers would meet, was set for 6:30pm, and Sansa wanted to arrive early. The restaurant was within walking distance of the hotel, which was lucky, as there were no buses nearby. The restaurant was small, and empty, as it had been reserved for their event. Sansa parked herself at the bar, ordered a lemonade, and watched as everyone else arrived. 

As usual, the bakers ranged widely in age, from Aemon, a retired doctor with kindly eyes who had to be at least 80, to Lyanna, a very intense 17-year old student that reminded Sansa of Arya. There were three young men around Sansa's age- Sam, a friendly looking grad student, Gendry, a welder with massive arms, and Podrick, a tall and clearly overwhelmed phys ed teacher who looked like a lost puppy. The tough-looking woman who chugged her entire pint of ale was Asha, a coast guard captain. The tiny silver-haired woman beside her was Dany, who startled everyone when she stated that she was a firefighter. 

"Look, no offense," said Shae, a pretty, athletic woman in her mid 30s, "but aren't there strength requirements to be a firefighter?"

"Yes," Dany said, with a sharptoothed smile. "I used to do gymnastics. Anyone want to arm wrestle?"

There were no takers, although Gendry looked intrigued, not condescending as Sansa had expected. Rounding out the group were Petyr, a middle aged private consultant, whatever that meant, and Ashara, a harp player with long dark hair. 

"Wait a minute, aren't there supposed to be 12 of us?" Podrick asked, halfway through a pint of cider and looking more nervous by the minute. 

"Our last baker is from Dorne; his train should arrive soon, if it hasn't already," replied Margaery. 

Margaery and her friend Brienne were the hosts of the Great Westerosi Bake Off ever since it began several years ago. After a rocky first season, they found their flow. Margaery was the one with the innuendoes. She teased bakers and flirted outrageously with everyone, despite being happily married with a newborn. Brienne was the steady one, the one who provided Twitter with thousand mile blank stares after Margaery's more questionable jokes and provided bakers with calm reassurance. 

Tired of standing by the bar, Sansa found a massive booth in the corner by the door and took a seat. She flipped through the menu idly before taking a sip of lemonade. 

"Mind if I join you?" Shae asked, carefully balancing a plate of fish and chips along with her beer. 

"Of course," Sansa said, smiling her best meeting new people smile. Shae grinned, and jammed herself into the booth with Sansa, other bakers following behind her. 

"No one's asked what I do for a living yet, I'm a bit disappointed," Shae said, pretending to pout before taking an enormous bite of her fish. Sansa's shoulders relaxed a little. 

"Well, what do you do?" Sansa asked politely. Shae grinned. 

"I'm a burlesque dancer and model. Can't believe they let me in, I've been applying for years and figured they didn't think I was wholesome enough for all this." Sansa tilted her head slightly. Shae had bright eyes and modest curves. Her hair was silky and her height was average. 

"Retro, I'm guessing?" Sansa asked, as Podrick blushed. Shae nodded. 

"I don't have the height or the plastic surgery for most modern stuff, but burlesque has always been friendly to more body types. Though there's room for improvement. You, though? I was surprised to hear you work for a wolf rescue." 

Sansa sipped her lemonade, keeping her face blank. Had she already offended Shae? Seeing her carefully neutral face, Shae laughed. 

"You don't seem very outdoorsy, is all. I could see you as a model, with those legs. Or maybe the muse to some eccentric rich painter who spends years just painting that red hair of yours."

Sansa blushed. 

"She's not wrong," said Peytr. He was sitting on Sansa's other side, and his eyes glittered. Sansa smiled with her teeth but not her eyes. Petyr's hip was pressed against hers, despite plenty of extra room in the booth. 

"Not wrong about what?" A lightly accented voice interrupted. Sansa turned, and used the motion as an excuse to carefully shift away from Petyr. 

This must be the baker from Dorne. His skin was a light, rich brown, and he was tall, with dark hair, a mustache, and an odd beard that framed his strong jawline. 

"I was just saying Sansa looks like someone who gets painted, not a wolf recovery coordinator," Shae said cheerfully, though she gave Petyr a sharp look. 

"Oh? But so does almost everyone here." The Dornish man said. Ashara tilted her head.  "How so?" 

The Dornish man smiled. 

"Anyone who bakes is someone who creates, no? Full of life and energy. What better subjects could a painter want?"

"I'd rather paint a dragon breathing flames," Dany said. The Dornish man laughed. 

"What's your name?" Gendry asked. 

"Oberyn," the Dornish man replied. "But if you have any more questions, you will need to wait until I've gotten a drink and some food. It was a long train ride." 

"I should get some food too," Sansa said, gesturing for Petyr to let her out of the booth. With a pleasant smile, he obliged, though Sansa could have sworn his hand brushed against her hair as she got up. 

Oberyn and Sansa walked to the bar in silence. Sansa surreptitiously appraised him as they walked. He was in his late 30s, maybe early 40s. A little silver glinted in Oberyn's wavy black hair. When he raised his arm to point at the wine he wanted, Sansa glimpsed part of a tattoo- something red with scales. Noticing her interest, the corner of Oberyn's mouth quirked up, and he rolled his sleeve up slightly. 

"It's a viper," he said, showing her the snake that glided down his arm. The snake had brilliant scarlet scales, large, clever eyes, and small horns on the top of its head. Almost unconsciously, Sansa reached out and lightly traced her finger along the snake's graceful body. 

"She's lovely," Sansa breathed. "Why a viper?" Oberyn smiled. 

"I work with snakes, and I did my master's thesis on the Dornish Red Viper- the tattoo was how I celebrated getting my degree. They have the deadliest venom of any snake in Westeros, but they are very misunderstood. Are you a lover of animals, then?" 

Sansa nodded as Oberyn rolled his sleeve back down.

"I work with direwolves- so many people think they're fairy tale monsters, vicious brutes out to kill every person they see. It's ridiculous," Sansa said. "There's been ONE wolf killing in the last 20 years, and you know how it happened?" 

She could feel her volume slightly increasing and her cheeks turning pink. Oberyn nodded, and she continued. 

"Some _idiot_ decided it was a good idea to keep a direwolf as part of a traveling circus. They barely fed it, put it in a tiny enclosure, gave it almost no enrichment, and then let people whack the cage to see it snarl ." 

Sansa was definitely being too loud now, but she couldn't stop. Oberyn's gaze was intent as he listened. 

"Finally, one evening, one of the so-called trainers made the mistake of trying to take away the direwolf's food after she had already started eating. When she growled at him, he hit her with a stick, and she attacked. Went right for his throat and he bled out." 

"And so justice was done," Oberyn said softly. Sansa blushed, embarassed.

"I don't know much about snakes- what makes the Dornish Red Viper special?" Sansa asked. 

"You ask a dangerous question- my thesis was nearly 100 pages long." Oberyn replied. 

"I'd love to read it," Sansa said softly. 

"Do the rest of us get to meet our handsome Dornish baker?" Margaery asked, coming their way with her trademark cat smile. Tucking her arm into Oberyn's, she steered him back to the booth and the other bakers. Sansa watched him go, her skin tingling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve read basically the entire Sansa/Oberyn/Ellaria tag multiple times. The day has come for me to add to this glorious rare pair. Ages are adjusted, because GRRM ages would be incredibly gross. Sansa is 30, Oberyn is 40, Ellaria is 42. Comments appreciated.


	2. Cake Week

The next day dawned clear and bright. Sansa had forced herself to go to bed early, and found herself to be one of the most conscious people in the tent when they got off the minibus at 7am. 

"Why did I sign up for a 5am wake up call?" Shae groaned through a cup of black coffee. Her bench was next to Sansa's, which Sansa found comforting. To Sansa's relief, Petyr was far across the tent. Unfortunately, so was Oberyn. Crew members were bustling everywhere, making sure everything was set up just so. 

Sansa swallowed nervously. Today, they met the infamous judges. Today, they baked. 

"Don't worry, no one's going to bite your head off," Margaery said, slinging a friendly arm around Sansa's shoulder. 

"Can't bake without your head," Brienne said very seriously. Sansa smiled. 

"Although, my grandma might have your bake fed to her roses if it isn't up to snuff. Loves her garden, does grandma," Margaery continued with a mischievous grin. Everyone in earshot winced. 

Olenna Tyrell was one of, if not  the , most famous bakers in Westeros. Despite her tiny size and distinguished white hair, she had sent many a baker into quiet hysterics. Her sharp tongue and infamous love of roses had earned her the nickname the Queen of Thorns. She didn't shout, no, she just made the hapless baker who had angered her wish that they had never been born. Like that poor fellow a few years back who mixed up his sugar and his salt. 

"I'll stand next to her, it'll help all of you with your nerves," Brienne promised. Podrick let out a yelp of laughter, then clapped his hands over his mouth. Brienne had to be 6 and a half feet tall, and Olenna Tyrell was 5 feet tall, at most. 

All too soon, the crew had all the stations prepped. A quiet young woman named Gilly introduced herself as the person who washed all the dishes during filming. Aprons were adjusted, cameras were aimed, and the bakers all inhaled as the judges first walked into the tent. 

Olenna looked even tinier in person, if that was possible. Beside her, exuding calm, strolled Varys, bald head shining in the sun. Varys' specialty was bread, and he balanced Olenna when she got a little too sharp. Sansa ran through her breathing exercises in her head, her best gentle smile plastered on her face. 

Years ago, when Bake Off first started, Sansa had begun watching with Arya. Arya tended to support the quiet, scary bakers, like Jaqen H'ghar, who had won last year. Arya had teased Sansa, suggesting that she try to terrify the competition with her Ice Queen routine that she kept for gross men in bars. But Sansa had always thought that love was a surer route to the viewers' support than fear.  _If I am ever on Bake Off, I'll make them love me._

"Right!" Margaery said, tossing her head so her chestnut hair gleamed. "Today, Olenna and Varys would like you to make a Madeira Cake. You have two hours to achieve the perfect dome and a lovely crack."

"Should we have them crack on?" Brienne asked. Margaery grinned.

"On your marks-"

"Get set-

"BAAAAAAAAAAAKE" They sang together, Brienne in a low voice, Margaery in a high pitched trill. 

Everyone got to work. At first, Sansa found herself constantly distracted by the hovering crew. She was fine with being interviewed while she baked- Arya and Rickon had harassed her for several practice baking sessions- but all the motion in her peripheral vision was disorienting. 

Varys and Olenna roamed the tent, asking each baker about their take on the madeira cake. True to her word, Brienne was hovering behind Olenna, making eye contact with each nervous baker. Aemon Targaryen, a few benches behind Sansa, was making a key lime madeira. Dany, next to him, was making an orange spice madeira. Her voice was loud and clear for one so small.

"Every bake needs spices," Dany declared. "And they set the orange off nicely." 

Podrick was in front of Sansa, and Olenna and Varys came to him next. Podrick seemed to have found his happy place, and was carefully measuring some sort of alcohol into his mix. 

"Triple sec madeira," he explained, ducking his head under Olenna's stare. "It just gives a bit of extra orange flavor." Varys smirked. 

"Bribing the judges, are we?" Olenna's love of alcohol was as infamous as her roses. Sansa focused on zesting her lemons, careful not to catch her fingers. She didn't need a bandage to fuss with. Ashara already had a bandaged thumb. 

"Good morning, Sansa," Varys said, coming over to her bench. Sansa bit her lip, tapping the zest into the bowl. 

"Good morning," Sansa replied, bringing up her friendliest smile. 

"And what have you got for us?" Olenna asked. 

"I've kept to the classic lemon flavor, but I'm focusing on making it extra lemony. Lemon is one of my absolute favorite flavors," Sansa said, cutting her lemon in half and juicing it into a bowl. 

"Sounds a bit simple. No alcohol, no spices?" Olenna's stare was daunting, but Sansa kept her cool.

"No, just candied lemon on top and a lemon syrup to soak the cake. It's very tart, I wanted the lemon to really shine."

"We shall see," Varys said, but his smile was reassuring. 

“Ah, Shae, will your Madeira have a crack?" Varys asked, moving along.

“Varys, I cannot wait to show you my crack,” Shae said. 

Margaery snorted and Olenna rolled her eyes.  Perhaps it was nerves, but somehow Shae's innocent facial expression did it. Sansa burst out laughing. The entire tent turned to look. Sansa sheepishly pressed a hand over her mouth, and, cheeks pink, went back to work.

_** summerbaker69**: Oh my god Shae  _

_** gwbofan**: Shae/Margaery I ship it _

_** jonquil3028 ** : Margaery is married dumbass _

_** duskuntildorne**: She could be polyam, you don't know! _

_** movingtoessos** : Shae/Sansa? Tol and smol _

It felt as though the bake had barely begun when Margaery and Brienne called time. Sansa had finished with 5 minutes to spare and tidy up her bench. She sipped her tea, waiting on her turn to be judged. 

Apparently Ashara's bandaged thumb had slowed her down; her cake wasn't completely finished. Olenna was very pleased with Podrick's triple sec madeira cake, though Varys thought there was a hint too much alcohol. Dany's orange and spice madeira cake was pronounced to have just the right amount of spices. Finally they arrived at Sansa's bench. 

Sansa had sliced her lemons into thin quarters and arranged the resulting triangles to form a flower on top of her madeira cake. The crack and dome were present, but what about the flavor? 

Varys and Olenna each took a bite. Varys' lips puckered slightly. 

"Oh, that's lovely. Very lemony, very tart, but you haven't overdone it."

"Mm. A little simple, but it is delicious," Olenna agreed. "And delicately decorated as well."

As they passed on, Sansa turned to Shae, who gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. One challenge down, two to go. 

To her surprise, as soon as judging ended, the crew swooped in, like a pack of friendly wolves. Half of them had forks in their pockets. Grabbing a fork of her own, Sansa tried Shae's grapefruit madeira. It was tasty, but Shae frowned as Sansa complimented the cake. 

"Not as strong a flavor as I wanted. Did you see Oberyn's cake? He used so much blood orange juice his cake turned pink."

Sansa turned toward the back of the tent. There, indeed, was a pink cake, with candied slices of orange on top. It was surrounded by crew, but no Oberyn. 

"Let's try it, before they get it all," Shae said, poking Sansa with her fork. 

Sansa cut a sliver for her and Shae to share. It was lovely, though a hint overly sweet. 

"I added a little too much sugar. A pretty laugh distracted me," Oberyn said, coming over. He was holding a slice of Sansa's cake. Sansa blushed. 

"Sorry. Shae said something funny." Oberyn quirked an eyebrow. 

"It isn't your fault. I bake around my children all the time, if I can't focus, that's on my own head."

"You have children?" Shae asked, snagging a bite of Sansa's cake off Oberyn's plate. Sansa did not hear Oberyn's response, as Petyr came over and asked her to try his cake. Sansa obliged, as she didn't wish to appear aloof or reluctant. Petyr's eyes never left her face as she tried his cake, which was far too sweet. 

"It's good," Sansa said, crossing her fingers mentally. 

"Sansa! Did you try Pod's cake?" Shae tucked her arm in Sansa's and pulled her over to Pod's bench. 

Lunch was next, and to her relief Sansa found herself sitting between Shae and Ashara. Sansa forced herself to eat, knowing she'd need the energy for the technical. 

* * *

Walnut cake. Why did it have to be Walnut cake? Sansa thought, staring at the row of cakes on the table. 

After the technical challenge was announced, Sansa had stared at her pile of walnuts for far too long. Sansa didn't like nut cakes, and while her cake book had mentioned them, Sansa couldn't remember how finely she needed to chop the nuts. In the end, she had chopped them roughly, hoping they needed to be distinguishable in the cake. 

Already nervous and behind, Sansa had made 3 batches of caramel before she could get her walnuts properly caramelized, and then she hadn't had enough time to finish icing the sides of her cake. Sansa stared at the cakes, trying to not cover her face with her hands, as Olenna and Varys were still announcing the higher ranking walnut cakes. 

"And in first place," Olenna was saying, "this one." Podrick tentatively raised his hand, looking like he'd been hit with a brick. 

"Lovely icing, perfect caramel, and a good cake. Well done, Podrick," Varys said warmly. Gendry ruffled Podrick's hair, and Oberyn clapped him on the back. She wanted to cry, or curl up in a hole somewhere, but there were still interviews to finish before they could go eat dinner. 

"Yeah, that... that wasn't what I wanted," Sansa told the camera, clutching her knees as she sat in the meadow by the tent. She was surrounded by lily of the valley. Sansa breathed deeply, holding back the tears. "I don't want to go so soon, but.... it all hangs on tomorrow." 

_** jonquil3028 ** : Yay Pod!!! _

_**movingtoessos** : Oh nooooooooo I like Sansa_

_**summerbaker69** : She's clearly about to cry_

_**gwbofan** : They can't kick her off, can they? Her lemon madeira looked so good... _

At dinner, Sansa was quiet. Petyr was on one side, Ashara on the other. 

"At least you had your caramelized walnuts," Ashara said, trying to make Sansa feel better. Ashara had accidentally chopped all of her walnuts, and had none to put on top. But her cake and icing had been better than Sansa's, so she had placed eleventh. Petyr shifted, his hip nudging hers, and casually draped his arm over her shoulder. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Sansa finished her meal as quickly as she could without giving offense, and headed back to her room to sleep. The showstopper awaited.

* * *

"Alright, bakers! It's been a rough first weekend, but at last, the one you've all been waiting for. Olenna and Varys would like you to make a Wolfswood Gâteau." Margaery announced. 

"A Wolfswood Gâteau isn't actually from up North, despite the name, but I'm sure our Northern bakers will do a splendid job," Brienne continued. 

"You'll need chocolate cake, with cherry flavor, usually kirsch, and lots of pretty chocolate work." Margaery said. 

"You have three and a half hours, bakers, so on your mark-"

"Get set-"

"BAKE!" 

Sansa set to work. The previous evening she had reviewed her time schedule for the bake, and double checked her sketches. She was ready for this. Deep breaths, just like her therapist Dr. Nan had taught her. Sansa had her cakes in the oven and had started her cherry jam before Olenna and Varys made it to her bench. This time, Sansa's nerves seemed to have floated away, and Olenna's doubt that Sansa would finish her decorations didn't even make her twitch. 

Sansa felt as if she was on autopilot. Her chocolate cakes were out of the oven, perfectly baked, ahead of schedule. Sansa's cherry jam was the perfect texture and her vanilla buttercream frosting came together like a dream. She brushed each cake with kirsch, then set about making her chocolate ganache. 

_**movingtoessos** : Okay what is UP with Sansa_

_**summerbaker69** : Look at her go!_

_**duskuntildorne** : it's like she's off on another planet_

Before she knew it, Sansa had her cakes assembled, layered with jam and buttercream, and covered in ganache. The temper on her chocolate was perfect, and she got her decorations piped and in the fridge in plenty of time. Once set, Sansa meticulously arranged her decorations, finishing one minute before time was called. 

Sansa looked around, seeing the other bakers for the first time since the challenge began. Shae had a lovely mirror glaze on her cake. Podrick had put a chocolate collar on his cake, with beautiful red cherries piped on it. Sansa couldn't see Oberyn's cake very well, to her disappointment. 

Petyr was the first to bring up his showstopper. His cake was covered in sharp abstract chocolate designs that reminded Sansa of daggers. The judges praised his chocolate work, but found the cake a bit dry. Poor Sam had suffered a collapse- his mousse hadn't set in the freezer, resulting in what Varys called a "tasty mudslide" while Olenna, for once, gave a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Ashara's cake hadn't collapsed, but apparently it didn't have much cherry flavor, and the chocolate work hadn't set. Shae's cake was pronounced "very elegant," and Podrick impressed with his chocolate collar and his generous use of kirsch. 

"Sansa, could you bring up your bake?" Brienne asked kindly.  I am as calm as a pond on a windless day, Sansa thought as she carried up her creation.  Hopefully this is enough to save me. 

Sansa's cake was three tiers, all the same size. After covering her cake with dark chocolate ganache, she had piped sentinel trees of dark chocolate to surround the sides of her cake. On top of her cake was a glorious weirwood tree of white chocolate. She had even had time to pipe red leaves to scatter on the top of the cake. 

"I almost don't want to cut it," Olenna said, quirking her lips in a hint of a smile. Sansa tried not to glow with pleasure as she described what was in her cake. Varys cut a slice, and he and Olenna each took a bite. 

They were silent. Brienne looked at them, then took a bite as well, keeping her face neutral. Sansa's heart pounded in her ears. 

Finally, Olenna looked up. 

"Absolutely scrumptious," Olenna declared. 

"Very well balanced, and very good chocolate work," Varys added, going in for another bite. Sansa blushed to the tips of her ears as she carried her bake away and sat back down. She barely noticed the rest of the judging. 

While the judges conferred over who would be Star Baker and who would leave, Sansa wandered the tent, looking at each cake. Other bakers were chatting, doing the same or sipping tea. Finally Sansa came to Oberyn's bench. Oberyn smiled as she approached. His cake was covered in gnarled, twisted trees made of dark chocolate, with milk chocolate thorns and leaves. 

"I've never seen trees like these," Sansa said, resisting the urge to touch them. 

"These are sandbeggar trees. They grow near the deserts of Dorne," Oberyn said. "Some do not find them beautiful, but they are built to survive." 

"There is beauty in survival," Sansa said, surprised at herself. 

She locked eyes with Oberyn for a moment. The air suddenly felt too warm. 

"Nice weirwood tree," Lyanna said, coming over. 

"Thanks," Sansa said, catching her breath and looking over at Lyanna's bench. Lyanna had decorated her cake with various types of trees found on Bear Island, where she was from. 

"I haven't seen a weirwood in a while," Oberyn said lightly."I shall have to come look at your cake."

"Do they have weirwoods in Dorne?" Lyanna asked. Oberyn shook his head. 

"No, but I've been up North. Multiple times, actually, but not in a while," Oberyn said lightly. 

"That's a long way from Dorne," Lyanna said. Oberyn shrugged, looking back at Sansa. 

"It's a big and beautiful world. Most of us live and die in the same corner where we were born and never get to see any of it. I don’t want to be most of us."

"Take your seats, everyone! They've decided!" Brienne called from the front of the tent. Sansa found herself sitting beside Shae, who grabbed her hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. 

_**movingtoessos** : HAND HOLDING_

_**gwbofan** : Friendship yaaaaaas_

"Well," Margaery said, as Olenna and Varys took their places,"it's been a crazy first weekend. We've seen some glorious bakes, and some bakes that just didn't quite turn out right.”

"Everyone in this tent earned their place here," Brienne continued. "And we wish we could keep all of you, but unfortunately, we can't."

"Now, I've got the nice job this week- I get to announce Star Baker," Margaery said. "This person made their mark with alcohol and a fantastic chocolate collar- congratulations Pod, you're Star Baker!"

Everyone clapped, while Podrick ducked his head, a deep red blush on his face. 

_**jonquil3028** :  WOOOOOOO! Pod for the win!_

_**gwbofan** :  they're totally kicking off Sam for the mudslide_

_**movingtoessos** :  I am so stressed, they ALWAYS kick off my fave, c'mon Sansa!_

"Now, I have the awful job," Brienne said, smiling sadly. "We know you've all done your best, but this person just had some rotten luck. And the person leaving us is... Ashara."

_**duskuntildorne** :  darn it, now we only have one Dornish person left_

_**gwbofan** :  I guess Sam's mudslide was really tasty_

_**movingtoessos** :  good for him, and thank god Sansa is safe_

_**summerbaker69** :  so much hugging. I love this show. _

_**jonquil3028** :  why is Petyr hugging Sansa for so long_

_**movingtoessos** :  this is uncomfortable_

_**gwbofan** :  did he just stroke her hair?!_

_**movingtoessos** :  wow, Shae has pointy elbows. I was kidding about shipping her and Sansa but... *side eye*_

_**duskuntildorne** :  Did anyone see Oberyn just glare at Petyr? Just me? _

_**jonquil3028** :  I didn't see anything..._

_** gwbofan ** : Hold up, I'm recording it, lemme rewind_

_**gwbofan** :  oh my god he did_

_**gwbofan** :  it was just for a second, but he totally did_

_** duskuntildorne** : #redvipergonnabite_

_** movingtoessos ** : Petyr better keep his hands to himself next week, just saying..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you might’ve noticed, the bakes are based off of Series 6 from 2015. Comments are very appreciated. The next chapter will be from Oberyn’s point of view. Suggestions, theories, and ideas are welcome :)


	3. Biscuit Week, Part I

Oberyn sighed as he watched the golden desert go by. A nine hour train ride wasn't the worst- the Northerners had far longer rides- but he missed the time with his girls. _Girls and boy,_ he mentally reminded himself.

A few weeks ago, his fourth child had come to him nervously, asking for a binder, boxer shorts, and a packer. _Arellas is a lovely name,_ Oberyn thought. His brilliant son. Already taking college classes at 17. _I was so wild at that age. How has the time gone by so fast?_

Obara, his oldest, had just started her first full time job. Nymeria, Tyene, and now Arellas were in college. Some men might find having four girls at home overwhelming, but Oberyn missed having all eight of them packed in together, plotting and playing. Ellaria might not admit it, but Oberyn knew she yearned for another baby. Their youngest, Loreza, was five now, and just two years after her birth, Ellaria had begun going through the change. Ellaria was quite indignant about it.

_“I'm not even 40 yet!” Ellaria groaned, flopping back on the bed. She was still sweaty from their lovemaking, but it appeared that sex had not been enough to lift her mood._

_“I know, my love, but thinking of all the money we'll save! Now we only need tampons and pads for...” Oberyn pulled an exaggerated frown, counting on his fingers. “...four women!”_

_Ellaria snorted. “For now. Obella will flower soon enough.”_

_Oberyn kissed Ellaria's forehead._

_“I am content. If we have no more children, I am still blessed with eight beautiful daughters. If you truly desire more chicks to mother, there is always adoption. Or perhaps we'll meet some lovely woman who wants both of us.”_

Oberyn sighed. Polygamy had been legal in Dorne for several decades, and he and Ellaria regularly shared partners since before they had married. But despite their best efforts, they had yet to find a man or woman who was compatible with both of them and prepared to parent eight lovely children.

His phone buzzed insistently. _Speak of the devil..._

_**Elia:** good luck papi!!!! doree and loree said the ginger biscuits are yummy _

_**Oberyn:** Shouldn't you be getting ready for school, mija? _

_**Elia:** We're waiting for the bus :) mami let me and Obella have some biscuits to take to school._

Elia was the one who had begged him to sign up for Bake Off in the first place. She and Obella loved the show, and they had pestered the others into joining them. It had become a family thing, with the girls at college watching and then texting their thoughts to their little sisters. They all agreed that their dad could bake just as well as the people on the show, but Elia was the one who had begged and begged until Oberyn finally filled out the application.

Oberyn sighed, shaking his head. He couldn't deny his girls _-and boy,_ he corrected himself- anything.

* * *

Oberyn had taken an earlier train this week so he wouldn't miss any of the festivities, which proved to have been the right decision. Dinner that evening was a boistrous affair, and Oberyn was content to let it all wash over him.

Asha was describing a sailing trip to Dany, gesturing emphatically as she explained how her crew had made it through a sudden storm. Lyanna was listening in, clearly intrigued. Podrick and Gendry were discussing stretches to prevent muscle pain. Apparently, as a P.E. teacher, Podrick knew some useful techniques to help Gendry take care of his arms while welding. Sam and Shae were at the bar, fetching more beer.

A flash of brilliant copper shone in his peripheral vision, and Oberyn turned. At the other end of the table, Sansa was talking to Aemon. The old doctor had lived up North before he retired, further North than Sansa had ever gone. Oberyn could only hear snatches of their conversation.

 _A goodhearted group,_ Oberyn thought to himself. _Except for that one._ Petyr had yet again sat next to Sansa, on her left, and was watching her talk to Aemon with hungry eyes. His right hand was under the table... was his hand on Sansa's thigh?

Someone lightly tapped Oberyn's shoulder.

“Could you help us carry over the beer?” Shae asked, gesturing at the bar where a row of pints sat waiting. Sam was already carrying over two of them.

“Of course,” Oberyn said, getting up. Shae clearly had something on her mind. As soon as they got to the bar, he was proved correct.

“So you noticed too,” Shae said quietly, looking over at Sansa and Petyr. Sansa said something, and Petyr passed her the salt with his left hand. His right hand remained where it was.

“I did,” Oberyn replied.

“Every time he comes near her, she tenses up. It's subtle, and she's polite, but...” Shae trailed off.

“But he does not care about her discomfort.” Oberyn said. Shae nodded.

“I will make him stop,” Shae said, her voice low.

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. Shae seemed to have taken to Sansa quickly. He approved.

“You might ask the lady's permission before intervening,” Oberyn said thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, something tells me this is a situation she has had to deal with before.”

“I won't cause a scene, but I'm not going to ask permission to do my best to keep him away from her,” Shae replied. Oberyn smiled.

“I think Lyanna has noticed too. She might be willing to help. Teenage girls have some leeway to be rude- it's practically expected of them. I know from experience.” Oberyn said.

“I'll ask her,” Shae said thoughtfully.

* * *

5am came quickly. Oberyn splashed water on his face, shaking the droplets from his wavy hair.

True to her word, Shae had found Lyanna the night before, and Lyanna had almost immediately demanded Petyr's seat so she could ask Sansa about how Wintertown was different than Bear Island. Sansa had visibly relaxed, and Oberyn had kept his eye on Petyr to make sure he didn't get too close to Sansa again.

Oberyn had enjoyed talking to Sansa last weekend, before Margaery had interrupted. Anyone who loved animals so much had Oberyn's approval, and after that, Oberyn had observed how Sansa interacted with everyone else.

Sansa seemed to know how to talk to everyone. With Asha, she asked about the dangers of sailing near the North. She listened to Lyanna ramble about her four older sisters and the martial arts they all did. She asked Sam about his studies and Gendry about the metal sculptures he did with scrap metal from his welding, and appeared genuinely interested in learning about their work. She could have been a politician's wife, with her sense of tact and her friendly smile.

Yet sometimes Sansa seemed to grow tense, nervous. She never drank any alcohol, sticking to lemonade and water. She avoided brushing against the others, unless it was a friendly hug from Shae or one of the other women. Oberyn didn't know what, exactly, had happened to Sansa, but he was determined to keep Petyr away from her.

* * *

When Oberyn arrived at the tent, he made eye contact with Shae. She nodded, then frowned, tilting her head toward the middle of the tent. Oberyn turned and looked. Each baker had begun organizing their station, and Petyr was halfway up, organizing the bench behind Sansa's. In the distance behind them, deer nibbled at the grass.

“Good morning!” Margaery said pleasantly, coming over to Oberyn. “Scoping out the tent?”

“Yes, just taking in the arrangement for this week. It is a little disorienting, switching benches.” Oberyn said.

“Ah, yes,” Margaery replied, looking toward Sansa and Petyr. Petyr was saying something to Sansa, who was listening politely with a fixed smile.

“The crew draw up the bench assignments, they have some sort of rotating system,” Margaery continued. “If I was allowed to make a few changes, I would.” Her tone was slightly sharp. Petyr was “helpfully” brushing Sansa's hair out of her face, even though only a few strands had escaped her braid.

“We get to look at the footage, after filming, just to see if we need to adjust anything,” Margaery said quietly, moving closer so only Oberyn could hear her. “And I've noticed one baker seems to have wandering hands.”

“Oh?” Oberyn said. “And does your grandmother know?” He asked quietly.

Margaery's lips tightened. “She has been made aware. I like that girl, and I suspect grandma does too. But he's being so sneaky about it that we can't kick him off unless he either does something obvious, or messes up his bake.”

“I doubt he'll do something obvious,” Oberyn replied. “I've seen his type before.”

“And his baking last week was average or good- no big mistakes,” Margaery replied.

“And yet, accidents do happen,” Oberyn said, his voice soft and dangerous. “It would be a shame if something went amiss.”

Margaery smiled.

“Such a shame.”

* * *

The signature bake passed quickly. To Oberyn's frustration, his bench was at the back of the tent, making it difficult to keep an eye on Petyr and Sansa while baking. The judges made their rounds, and all the bakers' biscotti were good to great, though Olenna gave Petyr a hard stare before pronouncing his almond biscotti “adequate.”

As everyone broke for lunch, Oberyn found his way over to Petyr. Sansa had already left her bench, but Oberyn managed to snag the last one of Sansa’s dark chocolate cranberry orange biscotti.

“Lovely weather, isn't it?” Oberyn said, smiling at Petyr before taking a bite of the biscotti. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and the weather was mild.

“Yes, too bad we aren't doing pastry today,” Petyr replied, his eyes following Sansa as she walked out of the tent to find a seat for lunch.

“Poor Ashara- she seemed like a nice woman,” Oberyn continued.

“Of course. Too bad she had to go.” Petyr replied. Oberyn sighed.

“Her poor thumb slowed her down. If she hadn't nicked it, perhaps she would have stayed.” Oberyn fixed his eyes on Petyr's face. The shorter man made eye contact, his expression bland.

“Accidents happen,” Petyr said with a regretful shrug.

“Yes. Accidents happen when people are distracted from their bake, perhaps watching others in the tent when they should be watching themselves,” Oberyn said evenly.

Petyr's eyes flicked over to Sansa for a split second, then he smiled.

“I think I'll get some lunch, good luck on the technical,” Petyr said.

Oberyn watched him go. Shae and Margaery were sitting on either side of Sansa, and Lyanna across from her. To Oberyn's satisfaction, Petyr found a seat at the other end of the table. Sansa would be able to eat lunch in peace. Oberyn, on the other hand... he had some thinking to do.

* * *

Despite spending almost the entire lunch break thinking of how to sabotage Petyr, Oberyn still didn't have any good ideas, and now he needed to take his own advice and focus on the bake. Oberyn thanked the Gods that Ellaria loved puff pastry. These strange arlettes seemed to be headed in a similar direction. With careful hands Oberyn mixed the dough and then gently kneaded it together.

_**duskuntildorne:** what is it about a man kneading dough? _

_**jonquil3028:** Oberyn has nice hands _

This was what Oberyn truly enjoyed about baking. Working with his hands, creating something new. As Oberyn rolled out the dough, he glimpsed the scars on his knuckles.

_“Don't you dare speak of my sister that way,” Oberyn hissed, palming one of the knives he wore. It was dark and loud inside the club, but Oberyn had heard the man's comment about Elia. The woman Oberyn had been dancing with tensed up and backed away._

_“Or what? Stupid Dornish slut got what she deserved.” The Lannister man sneered._

_Oberyn roared and threw himself on the older man, knife forgotten, punching every inch that he could reach. His knuckles split as he broke the man's jaw, but he didn't stop punching until the bouncers pulled him off._

Oberyn shook his head, brushing away the memory. He couldn't think about those days, not right now.

Oberyn placed the dough in the fridge to chill, and prepared his cinnamon sugar mixture. Looking across the tent, Oberyn noticed that Margaery was leaning on Petyr's bench, flirting outrageously. She was leaning on the bench with one elbow, but her other arm was behind the bench, between her body and Petyr's oven.

 _Smart woman,_ Oberyn thought. He was glad he hadn't gotten on her bad side. Behind Margaery, Sansa was bustling about, her long auburn braid gently swaying as she moved. Oberyn blinked. Right. Back to the bake.

* * *

Oberyn placed his arlettes on the table with relief. His arlettes looked similar to the others, with their cinnamon swirls and golden brown pastry. A few arlettes looked a bit pale, and some were cut too thick. Oberyn took his place on one of the stools. Sansa sat beside him, Shae on her other side.

“That was weird,” Shae said. “A biscuit made of pastry??? Of all things.”

“At least we didn't have to do macarons,” Sansa replied. Shae shuddered.

“All right, everyone, our judges are back!” Brienne announced loudly. Olenna and Varys walked up to the table, eyeing the row of arlettes.

“Right,” Olenna said briskly. “Let's have a look at these.”

“After you,” Varys said, with a courteous gesture.

They made their way down the table slowly. Oberyn's arlettes were the second ones they tried, and to his relief, they declared they had a “good crunch” and “plenty of cinnamon.” Asha's were “lovely and thin” and Podrick's were “quite nice.”

A soft hand suddenly gripped his. They had reached Sansa's arlettes, and she was staring at the judges nervously. Oberyn wasn't sure if she'd meant to grab his hand, or Shae's, but he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

_**movingtoessos:** HOLD UP. Red alert! Handholding! _

_**gwbofan:** ugh I love how the bakers support each other _

_**jonquil3028:** look, another deer in the background! _

“Hmm. A bit thick,” Olenna said gravely. “The spirals are nice, but...” Olenna took a bite. Sansa squeezed harder.

“As I thought. The middle isn't crisp.” Varys shook his head, and they moved to the next arlettes-Petyr's.

“Now these look underbaked,” Olenna said, poking one of the pale arlettes with a wrinkled finger. “Either they didn't bake them long enough, or the oven wasn't hot enough.”

 _The oven wasn't hot enough,_ Oberyn thought, keeping his face neutral. Clever, clever Margaery.

Sansa hadn't let go of his hand, and Oberyn could feel her slightly relax as the judges criticized Petyr's doughy arlettes. When the judges moved on to Sam's arlettes, Sansa seemed to suddenly realize what she was doing, and she let go of his hand with a slight blush before looking away. Had her eyes always been so blue? It was like looking into the sea on a cloudless day.

_**movingtoessos:** ok did anyone else see what i just saw _

_**jonquil3028:** what was that _

_**gwbofan:** Sansa blushed???? _

_**duskuntildorne:** did you see how Oberyn was looking at her? _

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. Everyone seemed tired after the long day of baking. In the end, Oberyn had taken 3rd in the technical, much better than his 6th last week. Asha had taken 1st with a dull glow of pride. To Oberyn's satisfaction, Petyr had placed 11th. Unfortunately, Sansa had placed 9th. She didn't cry, but she looked frustrated and disappointed. She ate quietly, barely looking at Gendry, who was sitting between her and Petyr and awkwardly trying to make conversation about different types of meringue.

Halfway through dinner, Oberyn's phone began vibrating. _Ellaria. Thank the gods._ Oberyn quietly slipped outside. The Reach was a beautiful place, Oberyn thought, gazing at the lush green meadows covered with evening dew. A deer and her fawn were lying in a clump of grass nearby.

“How did it go today, my love?” Ellaria asked.

“Better, now that I've heard your voice,” Oberyn replied. He could almost feel Ellaria shake her head.

“What shall I do with you, hm? Does Doran know his brother is made of cheese?” Ellaria said affectionately.

“He should- he heard my wedding vows,” Oberyn said. Ellaria laughed.

“How are the girls?” Oberyn asked. He could hear a little bit of excited yelling in the background.

“Elia had her javelin practice today for the track team. She's declared she will beat your record before she graduates.” Ellaria said.

“I WILL” Elia yelled. Ah, Ellaria was on speaker phone.

“And I will be there to cheer you on,” Oberyn said gravely.

“Girls, do you want to say hello?” Ellaria asked. Oberyn could hear scuffling as the girls fought over who could get closest to Ellaria's phone.

“Papi!” Little Dorea seemed to have won.

“Papi, Elia threw the javelin really far today.”

“She did?!” Oberyn said, pretending to be shocked.

“Papi, Papi! When are you coming home?” Loreza said.

“Tomorrow night, mija,” Oberyn said.

“Papi, Elia wouldn't let me borrow her speakers,” Obella said.

“And what did your mami say?” Oberyn asked shrewdly.

“Uh... she said Elia didn't have to lend them to me because I broke her last set,” Obella mumbled.

“Your mami is right. You can save up for your own speakers.”

“Okay, girls, my turn,” Ellaria said, taking back her phone and taking it off speaker.

“Are you alright, my love? You sound a little stressed.” Ellaria said quietly, her voice full of concern. Oberyn exhaled, looking up at the stars.

“I was thinking about Elia, today.” He said softly. “I didn't expect to be thinking of her in the tent.”

Before Ellaria could respond, Oberyn heard yelling, this time on his end.

“I'll call you right back,” he said, quickly slipping back inside to find the source of the commotion.

“She said she didn't want a drink twenty minutes ago, and she said she didn't want a drink now. So bloody well STOP ASKING.”

Gendry was standing between Sansa and Petyr, who were both still seated. Gendry's chair was on the floor, as though he'd leapt to his feet, shoving the chair so hard it fell. Petyr's face was calm.

“Dear boy, I was only being polite. There's no need to be so dramatic,” Petyr said smoothly.

“Dramatic?!” Gendry shouted, blue eyes blazing.

“I'd love a drink!” Margaery chipped in brightly. Petyr looked at Gendry and smiled.

“I'd be happy to get you one,” Petyr said, getting up and heading to the bar.

Gendry glared at Petyr, his chest and broad shoulders slightly heaving.

“Perhaps you should get some fresh air, yes?” Oberyn called to Gendry. Gendry nodded and walked over. To Oberyn's surprise, Sansa followed. The three bakers stepped outside. The air was fresh and Sansa's hair, free from its braid, danced in the light breeze.

“Are you okay?” Gendry asked Sansa gruffly. Sansa nodded.

“I don't drink alcohol. He's not the first person to be pushy about it.” She replied.

“My dad... my dad was a drunk,” Gendry said. The words seemed to cost him something. He spoke as though each word pained him. “I don't drink much, but I get really angry when I see someone being pushed into it.”

“I'm sorry,” Sansa said quietly. There was a long pause. “My dad was killed by a drunk driver.” Sansa said, so softly Oberyn could barely hear her. “It was in college. I was in the car with him. After that, I couldn't.... I just couldn't drink.”

“Seven hells,” Gendry said.

“Does it bother you, our dinners being at pubs?” Oberyn asked gently. Sansa turned, as though she had forgotten he was there. Her pale arms were wrapped around herself.

“I can handle small groups like this, when no one is getting drunk. Some of my friends drink, but they're all very responsible about having a designated driver.” Sansa said.

“Well, if Petyr asks if you want a drink again, I'll bloody well punch him,” Gendry mumbled, heading back inside. The tip of Sansa's lip quirked up. For a moment, Oberyn thought she would follow Gendry inside, but instead, she walked over to Oberyn.

“It is a lovely evening,” Sansa said, looking up at the stars. “You had the right idea, coming out here earlier.”

“I had to take a phone call from home,” Oberyn explained. Sansa smiled.

“My little sister has been texting me, telling me to crush the competition. She and my brothers all know I'm here, but I didn't tell anyone else.”

“Your sister sounds like my Obara,” Oberyn laughed. Sansa tilted her head, curious.

“Is Obara one of your children? I thought I heard you mention something to Shae.”

“My eldest girl. She works in private security.” Oberyn explained.

“Not to be rude, but you don't look old enough to have a daughter working in private security,” Sansa said. Oberyn laughed again.

“You are too kind. I was wild in my youth. I had Obara when I was 19.” Sansa raised her eyebrows. She seemed surprised, not judgmental.

“That's a lot of responsibility,” Sansa said thoughtfully. Oberyn sighed.

“It is. But I didn't actually know about Obara until she was six years old. Her mother was a one-night stand. I regret that I was not involved in her life sooner.” Oberyn confessed. Sansa listened, her deep blue eyes piercing him. Why was she so easy to talk to?

“I had three other children before I met my wife. I... I was so wild, so self-destructive, I decided they were better off without me, I paid child support but I left them with their mothers. But when I met Ellaria, she knocked some sense into me. She wouldn't even _consider_ dating me until I went to therapy and got my head on straight.”

“I didn't realize you were married,” Sansa said. Was that a hint of disappointment in her voice? “Your wife sounds like a lovely woman.”

“She is,” Oberyn said. Oberyn's phone began buzzing. Ellaria was videocalling, as if she had been summoned.

“I'll leave you to it-” Sansa said, turning to go inside. Oberyn gently caught her wrist.

“Stay?” Oberyn asked. “I'm sure she'd love to say hello.”

Sansa hesitated, then nodded. Oberyn accepted the call, and set the phone on the windowsill nearby.

“I was worried when you didn't call back,” Ellaria said. Her dark hair was tousled- she tended to run her hands through her hair when nervous.

“There was a little disturbance here- a capullo trying to force drinks on a woman,” Oberyn said. Ellaria frowned.

“You didn't stab him, did you? It's a long way to go to pay your bail.” Sansa laughed in surprise. Ellaria smiled.

“Who is with you?” Oberyn turned the screen slightly toward Sansa.

“This is Sansa, mi cariña,” Oberyn said. Ellaria's face lit up.

“You made the lemon cake! Oberyn said it was the best thing he tasted last weekend.” Sansa blushed.

“Oberyn, you didn't mention how pretty she was,” Ellaria said mischievously. Sansa's face went from pink to deep red.

“Stop teasing the poor woman, we have baking to do tomorrow,” Oberyn said, wagging his finger while making the most pompous face possible. Ellaria laughed.

“I hope Oberyn has behaved himself, though I'm sure he hasn't,” Ellaria said.

“You wound me,” Oberyn said, placing his hand over his heart.

“He's been very kind,” Sansa said sincerely.

“Good,” Ellaria said.

“Although,” Sansa added, her eyes brightening with mischief,” he promised to let me read his thesis on the Red Viper, and then do you know what he did? He didn't send it to me.”

“Oberyn, how could you?” Ellaria said.

“I have been besmirched,” Oberyn said. “She said she would love to read it, I didn't promise to send it to her.”

“And whose fault is that?” Ellaria replied. Oberyn threw his hands up.

“I surrender, I surrender.” Sansa laughed again.

“Well, Daemon will be over soon, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” Ellaria said fondly. Oberyn nodded.

“I'll see you and the girls tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you,” Ellaria replied, and ended the call.

“Well, I had better head back inside- Shae was going to help me check my design for my showstopper.” Sansa said regretfully.

“Good luck tomorrow,” Oberyn said as she went inside. She turned in the doorway, her copper hair glowing in the light from the pub.

“You too,” she said softly.

Oberyn stayed, and watched the glimmering stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh! I split this chapter in half because it got so long. Something that really frustrates me is fic where Oberyn is just a flat Latin lover stereotype. Oberyn is canonically a really brilliant, educated, empathetic, and slightly violent dude, and I'm trying to get inside his POV. Comments and suggestions appreciated!
> 
> Like many other fic writers, I'm not going to bother to make up Rhoynish, it's just Spanish. 
> 
> *mija: Spanish for my daughter, affectionate  
> *capullo: Spanish for wanker, someone who is malicious  
> *carina: Spanish for sweetheart


	4. Biscuit Week, Part II

The tent buzzed with activity. At the bench beside Oberyn, Aemon was carefully tracing an enormous template that looked like a book. In front of him, Dany was molding a thin sheet of gingerbread dough onto a bowl. Once she had finished, she used a butterknife to press scales all over the dough and then a paring knife to cut triangles in a jagged row along the bottom edge.

Olenna and Varys were roaming the tent as usual, making skeptical comments about biscuit box construction and types of icing. It was a hot day, and all the bakers were sipping from their water bottles constantly. Even Olenna had a water bottle, though a crew member had to fetch her a replacement after she dropped it by the judging table, spilling water everywhere.

_**jonquil3028:** ok, has literally anyone ever made a biscuit box? Is this a thing?_

_**gwbofan:** maybe bakeries do it? like for kids' parties?_

_**duskuntildorne:** i've never seen anything like that down here, anyway_

When Oberyn glanced at Petyr, he was glad to see that he wasn't bothering Sansa, as he was cutting out strips of shortbread dough and arranging them over an aluminum foil form. Sansa was bent over her bench, though Oberyn couldn't tell what she was doing with her dough.

Oberyn thanked his past self for choosing to make a simple biscuit box as he traced his rectangular templates. The girls had loved his practice bake. Even Obara, who was harder to impress, texted that the photos looked "professional." Hopefully Oberyn could achieve the same results here in the tent.

Once he had his frames of anisebread dough, he crushed his boiled sweets. Finding clear boiled sweets had been difficult, but his terrarium wouldn't look right with colored windows. Oberyn spread a generous heap of boiled sweets in the middle of each anisebread frame, then popped them in the oven.

With the biscuit box baking, Oberyn quickly fetched his gingerbread dough from the fridge. Margaery's promised interruption would be soon, and Oberyn needed to work fast. He had his red viper biscuits cut out in no time, and back in the fridge to chill before baking. Oberyn wanted sharp lines on his biscuits.

"Oh no!" Margaery gasped suddenly. "Where did that deer come from?"

Every single camera and every single baker immediately turned to look at Margaery, who was pointing to the end of the tent where judging took place. A slender deer was there, standing by the judging table, frozen as if it had just realized where it was.

"Everyone just stay calm," Brienne said, extending her hands as though that would soothe everyone.

CLANG!

Shae had dropped her metal bowl. The deer panicked. The tent erupted into pandemonium. Podrick shrieked. Lyanna grabbed a wooden spoon, holding it like a sword. Sansa started to sway, Petyr ran to "assist" her, and Oberyn made his move.

_**jonquil3028:** HOLY SHIT_

_**movingtoessos:** a deer?!?!?!?!?!?!?!_

_**summerbaker69:** a deer, a deer, all covered with... fuck, what rhymes with deer_

_**movingtoessos:** did Sansa just faint?!_

_**gwbofan:** get your hands off her Petyr!!!!!_

_**gwbofan:** margaery ilu but i swear she's making everyone panic more_

_**duskuntildorne:** what is even happening right now_

_**duskuntildorne:** where'd Oberyn go?_

As soon as the deer had been shooed out of the tent by Brienne, the crew announced a 15 minute pause in the bake. A few bowls had gotten dropped as people scurried to get away from the deer, and one of them was cracked. Luckily, none of them had had ingredients in them. During clean up, a few of the timers went off, and bakers rushed to pull their bakes from the oven.

"Right," Margaery said, taking a gulp from her water bottle.

"Now that was an adventure, wasn't it?" Brienne said cheerfully.

"Least it wasn't the Red Wedding," someone muttered. Oberyn winced.

"No, no red velvet wedding cakes in the bin," Margaery said.

_**summerbaker69:** oh my god_

_**gwbofan:** #redwedding flashbacks_

_**movingtoessos:** that poor Frey girl_

"The judges have decided everyone gets 10 extra minutes to account for the interruption." Brienne said.

"On your marks-"

"Get set-"

"Keep baking!"

Margaery looked over at Oberyn. He tilted his head slightly, smiled, then went back to his bake.

Time ticked on, with a flurry of baking and cooling and icing. Finally, the four hours were over. Oberyn wiped his hand across his cheek, trying to brush some of the sweat away. The tent was warm, and his icing was slightly smudged, but he was pleased. Olenna and Varys waited at the table, flanked by Margaery and Brienne.

"Right, Aemon, you're up first," Brienne said.

The judges were pleased with the presentation of Aemon's box. He had chosen to do orange shortbread bookworms inside of a gingerbread book box. The book was piped to look like a classic hardcover, complete with golden trim.

"Tastiest worms I've ever had," Margaery declared.

"The box needs a lot more flavor," Varys said. "I can barely taste the spices."

The judges were happier with the taste of Gendry's biscuits, which were next up. Gendry had done dark chocolate biscuits shaped like welding helmets. His box, however, was pronounced too plain, as it was a simple gingerbread chest vaguely shaped like a toolbox.

Dany's box, it turned out, was a massive gingerbread dragon egg, full of spicy mexican chocolate dragon biscuits. Varys enjoyed the spice, though Olenna thought there was too much cayenne. Asha's coconut shortbread rowboat box filled with key lime oars got high marks for appearance and flavor. Sam’s musical note biscuits weren’t fully iced, as he had run out of time.

Petyr was next. He had a shortbread bird cage full of lemon mockingbirds.

"Hmm," Olenna said, frowning. "I'm not sure that's a box. It hasn't got walls, has it?"

"Hmmm," Varys echoed. "Well, we'll have to taste them."

Varys cut a mockingbird in half, taking a piece for himself and handing the other to Olenna. They each popped them in their mouth, and almost immediately frowned.

"Oh dear," Olenna said briskly. "It's happened again." Petyr looked perplexed.

"This is far, far too salty," Varys said, with a patient sigh. "Did you mix up your salt and your sugar?"

Petyr hesitated. "No, I didn't- let me taste-" he took a mockingbird and bit into it, then grimaced.

_**movingtoessos:** SUCK IT, CREEP_

_**gwbofan:** karma is real, omg please kick him off_

_**duskuntildorne:** how does this keep happening lol_

_**jonquil3028:** that's what he gets for pawing at Sansa_

"I... suppose in the commotion with the deer... I may have switched the sugar and salt," Petyr said slowly.

 _ **summerbaker69:** _# _bakeoffdeerforpresident_

Varys broke off a bit of the cage, which almost immediately began to collapse.

"That's why walls are better than cages, I'd say," Olenna said crisply, taking her piece of shortbread from Varys and nibbling at it. "The flavor is good, but very simple."

Petyr took his bake back to his bench, a dull red spreading over his neck and ears. Oberyn was so pleased he barely noticed Olenna and Varys' comments on Lyanna's sea salt caramel biscuits or Podrick's almond biscuits.

"Sansa, love, you're up next," Margaery called. Sansa appeared completely calm as she brought her bake forward.

"So, this is my gingerbread sewing box with my tea and honey spools of thread biscuits,” Sansa said, gently placing her bake on the table.

“Tea in a biscuit? Amusing,” Olenna said.

“It’s a hard flavor to capture... let’s try it,” replied Varys. They each took a biscuit.

“That’s a lovely crunch, as it should be,” Olenna said.

“I can taste the tea and the honey- that’s clever,” Varys said. “Now, the box...”

They each chewed a chunk from the lid of the box.

“A good, classic gingerbread,” Olenna said. “Nicely done, Sansa.”

_**movingtoessos:** yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!_

_**summerbaker69:** that was cute_

Sansa made her way back to her bench, all smiles. For the first time, Oberyn noticed she had dimples in her rosy cheeks.

_**gwbofan:** is Oberyn bleeding?_

_**movingtoessos:** omg, no, he has icing on his cheek_

_**duskuntildorne:** is it just me or is Oberyn zoning out_

“Oberyn? Oberyn! It’s your turn my love, are you here with us?” Margaery said teasingly.

“Of course, of course,” Oberyn said smoothly, carrying up his bake.

“Now that is a spectacular box,” Varys said appreciatively.

Everything had come together. Oberyn had built a terrarium out of biscuit, with candy glass panes and 36 gingerbread red vipers inside, carefully iced.

_**duskuntildorne:** oh my GOD_

_**summerbaker69:** holy shit_

_**gwbofan:** that is gorgeous_

“Now I think you said your gingerbread is a little different?” Olenna asked, picking up a viper.

“Yes,” Oberyn said, “I grated fresh Dornish nutmeg in the dough and I used extra ginger.”

“Hm. The nutmeg certainly comes through- it’s nice and sweet.” Olenna said. Varys nodded.

“And the box- those windows do look spectacular- the frame is anisebread?”

“Yes, there’s fresh ground star anise in there,” Oberyn replied. Olenna nibbled a chunk of the box.

“I don’t like this quite as much, but I’ve never enjoyed licorice,” Olenna said.

“I think it’s lovely,” Varys said, popping another chunk of the box in his mouth. With a smile Oberyn retreated to his bench to await the results of the judging.

* * *

“Alright. It’s been a very biscuity weekend,” Margaery said. “Who’s done well and who’s not keeping up with the rest?”

“Asha, I think, has done very well- first in technical, and those key lime biscuits were scrumptious.” Olenna said.

“Sansa did so well on the signature and the showstopper, if she hadn’t struggled in technical I’d have put her up toward the top,” Varys said.

“Oh, yes, those biscotti? Delish.” Margaery said.

“How about Oberyn?” Brienne asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Varys said. “Lovely biscotti, 2nd in technical, and that anisebread? Unexpected, but it worked.”

“Hmm. I liked his gingerbread, that nutmeg really shone through. But the anisebread wasn’t my favorite.” Olenna said.

“Now, how about the other end? Anyone struggling to keep up?”

“I think Sam had a rough go of it,” Varys said. “10th in technical, his biscuits weren’t finished...”

“But at least Sam’s biscuits were edible. Petyr was 11th in technical, and his biscuits were incredibly salty.” Olenna said.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it,” Brienne said.

“Brienne, fancy a worm?” Margaery said, handing Brienne one of Aemon’s bookworm biscuits.

“Oh, yes- look out, though, if those mockingbirds see them there won’t be a single one left.” Brienne replied.

_**movingtoessos:** Sansa for star baker?_

_**summerbaker69:** not with that 9th in technical_

_**movingtoessos:** yeahhh, probably_

_**jonquil3028:** #kickoffPetyr_

_**duskuntildorne:** Oberyn for star baker, c'mon, that terrarium was incredible_

_**movingtoessos:** #kickoffPetyr_

_**gwbofan:** #kickoffPetyr yes please, get him out of here_

_**adeercoveredinbeer:** #Petyrisacreep_

* * *

As they awaited the results of judging, the bakers clustered outside the tent in the sunshine. A few deer were in the distance.

"A deer in the tent, can you believe it," Sam said with a sigh. Gilly, the crew member who washed dishes, patted him gently on the shoulder.

"I suppose the tent just smelled too delicious?" Gilly said. Sansa and Shae snorted. Oberyn agreed with them. The tent smelling delicious had nothing to do with it. Well, not exactly, anyway.

"You research wolves, why did you freak out?" Lyanna asked Sansa, raising a judgmental eyebrow. Sansa shrugged.

"Everyone gets startled," she replied. Oberyn noticed her eyes drifting to Petyr, who was sitting by himself.

"We're ready for you, bakers!" Brienne called from the tent. Everyone trudged back in, hands in the pockets of smudged aprons.

"You've got icing on your cheek," Sansa said, nudging Oberyn as they walked in the tent. He paused in the entrance for a moment.

"Where is it?" Oberyn asked.

Sansa hesitated, her big blue eyes uncertain. Then, delicately, gently, she reached up and brushed a finger along his cheek. Without thinking, he closed his eyes. Her touch was as light as a butterfly's wing.

"Um, I got it," Sansa said, bringing Oberyn back to himself.

"Thank you," Oberyn said, smiling.

As if it was her turn to forgot herself, Sansa slipped the tip of her finger in her mouth, tasting the icing. Oberyn stared at her for a moment.

"Come along, come along," Margaery said, coming up and shooing them toward the stools. She glanced back at Oberyn, one eyebrow raised. To his surprise, Oberyn felt his cheeks grow slightly warm. 

* * *

"Well, that was an eventful weekend," Brienne said.

"You've survived biscotti, arlettes, a deer, and worst of all, the biscuit box," Margaery continued.

"Now, I get the fun job this week," Brienne said. "The judges got into a bit of a tiff. It was a very close decision for star baker, but they finally came to an agreement."

_**movingtoessos:** Asha!_

_**duskuntildorne:** no, Oberyn, come on, that terrarium!_

_**summerbaker69:** ughhhhhh who is it?!_

"This week's star baker really impressed the judges with their biscotti. They baked perfect arlettes, and as a reward, they should row away with their delicious key lime oars- Asha, you're star baker!"

_**duskuntildorne:** #justiceforoberyn_

_**movingtoessos:** yay asha!_

_**duskuntildorne:** #justiceforbiscuitterrarium_

_**gwbofan:** look i don't care who got star baker KICK OFF PETYR_

_**summerbaker69:** god, same, he reminds me of my old boss. creep._

"Now, I have the rough job," Margaery said with a sigh. "We would love to keep all of you, but we just can't. And unfortunately, the person leaving us is...."

Oberyn looked down the row of bakers. Sam's lips were pressed tightly together, and he was shaking slightly. Sansa looked slightly nervous, and Petyr was almost too calm.

"Petyr," Margaery said. "Sorry, love."

_**movingtoessos:** YES_

_**duskuntildorne:** serves him right_

_**gwbofan:** #pervpetyr is gone, thank god_

_**adeercoveredinbeer:** i feel kinda guilty, cause bake off, but i am SO glad he had a bad weekend_

_**duskuntildorne:** all hail bake off deer, destroyer of creeps_

* * *

To Oberyn's relief, Petyr left for his train as soon as they returned to the hotel after filming. Oberyn congratulated Asha, who still looked shocked at winning star baker, then fetched his things from his room.

Lyanna, Oberyn, Shae, and Sansa all piled into the back of the minibus together, as their trains were departing at similar times.

"Thank god for air conditioning," Shae said, fanning herself. "I was getting so overheated today. And thank god for them kicking off Petyr," Shae said.

Sansa glanced around the minibus. No one was on the bus except the four bakers, and the driver way up front.

"I... may have done something unethical," Sansa said quietly.

"Does it have anything to do with you fainting like a big wuss?" Lyanna asked. Sansa glared.

"Yes, actually." Sansa took a deep breath.

"Petyr's been staring at me all weekend, and he... he kept _touching_ me." Her cheeks were pink, and Oberyn realized that beneath her calm tone, Sansa was furious.

"So when the deer freaked everyone out, I realized I could do something about it. While the cameras were all focused on the deer, I grabbed some salt in my hand, and then when he got water to "revive" me, I dropped it in his bowl of dry ingredients." Sansa confessed.

Before Oberyn could process Sansa's confession, Shae burst out laughing. Sansa looked appalled.

"Shae, it's not funny, I could have gotten caught, and it was cheating-"

"No, no-" Shae wheezed "-no, he deserved it, but..." It took Shae several seconds and a long gulp of water before she could stop laughing long enough to talk.

"I dropped my bowl on purpose so the deer would freak out. When Petyr went to catch you, I threw some salt in his bowl," Shae said, descending into laughter again. Lyanna smirked approvingly.

"Shae!" Sansa said, horrified. "You could have gotten kicked off!"

"I would-" Shae gasped, still laughing-- "I would _never_ do it to any other baker, but he was being such a creep," Shae said.

"I mean, you're not the only one," Lyanna said.

Shae and Sansa turned to look at her. To Oberyn's amusement, Sansa's eyebrows appeared to be trying to hide in her hairline.

"What? After we started baking again, I asked if he'd forgotten his salt, and suggested that he add a little of my sea salt to his bake," Lyanna said.

Sansa put a hand over her mouth. Shae twitched, as though any minute she'd burst back into hysterical laughter.

"Did anyone on this bus _not_ put salt in his bake?" Sansa said. The three women turned to look at Oberyn, who was barely maintaining a straight face.

"I..." Oberyn's shoulders started to shake with suppressed laughter. "Much as I would have liked to punch him in the face, I did not think it wise." Oberyn said, trying to hold back his mirth. Lyanna looked unimpressed, and Shae looked unsurprised. 

"However, I may have.... assaulted him," Oberyn said, mustache twitching.

Lyanna chuckled, and both Sansa and Shae collapsed in their seats, laughing so hard they could barely breathe.

"Oh my _gods,_ " Shae gasped, holding a hand to her stomach.

"You... are a very.... bad, bad man," Sansa wheezed between laughs. Oberyn twirled his hands and gave a courtly bow, like a player in a film. While Sansa had almost stopped laughing, that set her off again.

"Water... please..." Sansa gasped, trying to catch her breath.

Oberyn passed her his water bottle, and she sipped at it, trying to restrain her giggles. When she handed it back to him, the mouth was slightly smudged with her lip balm. Oberyn took a drink of water, trying to ignore how his lips tingled.

* * *

Shae's train arrived first, and they waved farewell. Sansa and Lyanna's train was due in half an hour, and Oberyn's in 45 minutes. Oberyn was content to sit on the bench together in quiet companionship.

"I need a snack," Lyanna said, yawning. It had been a long day of filming. Oberyn was grateful his train ride wasn't as long as theirs.

"Watch my stuff?" Lyanna asked Sansa, who nodded. Lyanna got up and walked off to find food. Oberyn stretched his back, rolling his shoulders.

"A most successful weekend," Oberyn said idly. Sansa nodded, an odd gleam in her eye.

"That deer didn't wander in by accident, did it?" Sansa said quietly. Oberyn raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised.

"Why would you think such a thing?" Oberyn asked. Sansa gave him a look.

"Deer are flightly and nervous. Yes, they can become acclimated to people, but they're not going to wander into a tent with 20 people in it by accident." Sansa said firmly.

"Margaery may have had something to do with that," Oberyn admitted.

"Or Olenna," Sansa said quietly.

Oberyn tilted his head. While he had already thought Sansa was smart, she was even more perceptive than he had realized. For a long moment they sat in silence, then Sansa's phone began buzzing insistently. Sansa glanced at Oberyn, then picked up the phone, pressing it to her ear.

"Hey, Arya"

"TEXT ME BACK FASTER" Arya yelled. Oberyn winced. That volume had to hurt Sansa's ears, but she seemed used to it.

"We were chatting on the minibus, you know, bonding as bakers," Sansa said calmly.

"Yeah, yeah, did they kick off the creep or do I need to come kick his ass?" Arya demanded. Oberyn snorted.

"He got kicked off, but remember, you can't tell anyone." Sansa said quietly, glaring as if her sister stood in front of her.

"I won't, come on, you know me. I keep secrets better than anyone. How's it going with the hot guy?"

Sansa turned a deep crimson.

"Arya!!!!" She hissed. Oberyn pretended to examine his fingernails.

"Get his number!!! You need to start dating again, gods, Sansa," Arya said.

"I am not having this conversation right now," Sansa said. "I'll text you when my train arrives, okay?"

"Alright, byeeeeee"

Sansa hung up, her face still flaming almost as red as her hair.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?" Sansa said.

"Why, Sansa, everyone already knew you and Aemon couldn't keep away from each other," Oberyn japed. Sansa chuckled.

"Thanks."

"On a completely unrelated note," Oberyn said innocently. "May I have _your_ number? I did promise both you and Ellaria that I'd send you my thesis on red vipers, and I hate to disappoint beautiful women."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how badly I wanted Oberyn or Shae to "accidentally" bump into Petyr and make him cut off his little finger, but bake off is too wholesome for that. Now Petyr is gone, and good riddance. Fanfiction is many things, and sometimes it's wishfulfillment for how people should act when a woman is being harassed. 
> 
> Comments and suggestions appreciated!


	5. Nightmares and Daydreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: this chapter begins with a short dream flashback that references domestic abuse. Skip the first chunk of italicized text if you don't want to read it.

Tuesday morning

_Sansa looked around. She was alone in a lavish apartment, trimmed in gold and red. Her blood ran cold._ No, not this dream. _With dread slipping down her spine, Sansa looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a gold party dress and crimson high heels._

No, no, no, _Sansa thought desperately._

_The door slammed against the wall as it was flung open. Sansa flinched as a golden-haired boy entered the room, followed by his red-bearded bodyguard._

_"There you are, waiting as you were told," Joffrey sneered, his handsome face twisted with fury. "You're such a stupid bitch."_

_Sansa trembled. She should have known better, she should haven't have said anything, she should have just been silent eye candy and this wouldn't be happening._

_"Trant, your belt," Joffrey ordered. "Remember, I like her pretty."_

_The bodyguard slowly removed his belt, watching Sansa with cold eyes._

_"Please, I never meant it, I'll do whatever you say-" Sansa begged._

_"Shut UP, bitch," Joffrey spat._

_"I'm sorry," Sansa sobbed. "I'm sorry, it was an accident, I promise-"_

_"How many times have I told you not to embarrass me?" Joffrey hissed. "I shouldn't have to repeat myself. Now strip and turn around, unless you'd like me to take you to the frat house first?"_

"Sansa!!! Sansa, wake up!"

Sansa bolted awake. The clock on the nightstand glowed- it was 5:45am. Arya was sitting on her nightstand by the clock, grey eyes concerned. She looked so much like their father that Sansa's heart ached.

"Thank you," Sansa said, trying not to cry.

"Lady came and got me," Arya said, nodding at the enormous wolfdog on the floor beside her. Lady's yellow eyes looked up at Sansa, pleading. She shifted back and forth on her paws, clearly upset.

"Lady, you can come up," Sansa said. Permission granted, the grey wolfdog immediately leaped on Sansa's bed and curled up on her lap, nuzzling her hand with her long nose.

"I'm glad I came by," Arya said, scritching Lady's ears while Sansa scratched her chin.

Arya had a key to Sansa's flat, and often dropped by at strange hours to swipe Sansa's baking. This habit had only increased since bake off began and Sansa was practicing constantly. It annoyed Sansa sometimes, but this morning she was grateful.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Arya asked softly. Sansa inhaled, long and deep, then exhaled slowly.

"It was the night of the Lannister Charity Ball," Sansa whispered. Arya winced. That was the night that had finally convinced Sansa to confide in Arya. To tell her what it was _really_ like dating the famous Joffrey Baratheon.

"You've got your monthly appointment with Nan tomorrow, yeah?" Arya said gently. Sansa nodded.

"I think I need to take Mondays off, while Bake Off is going," Sansa said slowly. "Coming back from Bake Off on the red eye train, sleeping badly for a few hours, then working remotely until I get home and going straight into the office is stressing me out."

"I told you it was a stupid plan." Arya said matter-of-factly. "You don't _have_ to be perfect, you know. I bet that other northern girl gets home and goes straight to bed, not to work like a maniac. And you've got a bazillion vacation days left"

"You're a brat," Sansa said, yawning.

"You're a priss," Arya said, sticking out her tongue. "Now, would it make you feel better to whack at something before you get ready for work?"

Sansa grinned.

* * *

Tuesday Evening

_**Oberyn:** Here's a link to my thesis. It's quite lengthy, as I warned you_

_**Sansa:** I can't wait to read it_

_**Oberyn:** How are your wolves?_

_**Sansa:** Absolutely wonderful. The established packs just had their pups at the end of April, so we've been monitoring them to see how they're doing- today I went out to check on the Tumbledown pack_

_**Oberyn:** Are you allowed to see the pups?_

_**Sansa:** Not yet- we're giving them as much space as we can. The mother and the pups won't leave the den for several weeks- their eyes aren't even open yet._

_**Oberyn:** How does the mother feed? Fat stores?_

_**Sansa:** They do try to build fat stores during winter, but the other pack members bring the mother food while she's in the den with the pups. Packs are family groups, the other adults are the pups' father and older siblings from previous litters._

"Sansa, are you going to text hot guy all night, or are you going to make me that quick bread you promised?" Arya demanded. Sansa looked up from her phone, frowning.

"It's quick bread, Arya, I can do both at the same time. And his name isn't hot guy," Sansa replied, heading for the fridge. Arya rolled her eyes and stretched out on Sansa's couch. Lady, who was on the floor in front of Arya, yawned and stretched.

"Yeah, yeah, Oberyn. The older guy. The _married_ older guy with kids."

"Don't you have papers to grade or something?" Sansa asked, slightly irritated, pointedly ignoring her phone when it buzzed. Arya smirked.

"I teach _gym_. There are no papers. Oh, and I made a senior cry today," Arya said, clearly pleased with herself. Sansa rolled her eyes.

"What did you do this time?" Sansa asked, turning the oven on to preheat.

"He said he didn't want to lift weights because he's strong enough already. Tall, lanky kid, probably 6'3," Arya said. "I told him I'd excuse him from lifting weights if he could beat me at arm wrestling."

Sansa winced, and Arya grinned like a shark.

"Did the rest of class warn him?" Sansa asked.

At 5'1, Arya typically had trouble with some of the students at the beginning of each year, since basically all of them towered over her. That usually lasted for about 10 minutes before Arya demonstrated why she was one of the most promising amateur MMA fighters in the North. After that, her students beheld her with a mixture of awe and terror.

Arya grinned.

"Nope. He moved here like a week ago and he's been incredibly obnoxious about how dull it is up north and how all of us are stupid inbred hicks."

"And he cried when he lost?" Sansa asked, getting out her bowls and assembling her ingredients.

"Like a baby," Arya said, popping her gum.

Sansa shook her head. Arya did not agree with Sansa's theory of love being superior to fear, but Wintertown High School didn't seem to have any complaints. Arya got to work out while getting paid, and she had plenty of time to train and fight before and after school.

"So what's this quick bread again?" Arya asked.

"Jalapeño, Dornish cheddar, and sea salt soda bread," Sansa said, carefully dicing her jalapeños. Arya raised her eyebrows

"Did you choose that for _Oberyn_?" Arya asked.

"Of course not, I had to submit my recipes before the competition began-" Sansa groaned, realizing Arya was winding her up.

"It's fun seeing you with a crush," Arya said. "How long has it been, anyway?"

"None of your business," Sansa said briskly, tossing the jalapeños in the bowl and getting out her measuring spoons. While Sansa confided in Arya a lot, she did **not** talk to Arya about dating. Sansa wasn't sure how Arya would react if she knew the truth.

While Sansa hadn't been in a serious relationship since Joffrey, she did occasionally scratch an itch with dating apps. Armed with a fake name and a brown wig, she'd hop on once a year or so. Once Sansa had a dozen matches, she'd chat them up, dig through everything she could find on them online, and decide which suitor seemed safest.

Then, she'd ask the suitor what the best coffee place was in their neighborhood. If the man didn't send up any red flags during the coffee date, she'd invite herself back to his place for sex. Sansa was very clear that it was only a one-time hook up, and the men, eyeing her curves and long legs, had no objections.

The sex was usually competent, if not thrilling. One or two men had been skilled enough to merit a repeat performance, including an extremely buff firefighter who had given her a half hour back massage before they even got started. But even he only lasted a few weeks before Sansa backed away.

Her system worked, in that Sansa was in complete control. She even had an app that would text Arya her location and a preset message with the man's address and a request for help if Sansa didn't check in on the app on time. Thankfully, it had never been necessary, as the subsequent conversation with Arya would have been extremely awkward.

"Sansa? Earth to Sansa?" Arya called. Sansa blinked. She'd been standing at the counter for too long without measuring anything.

"Just zoned out," Sansa said, finishing up measuring her dry ingredients.

"Shall I take Lady for her w-a-l-k?" Arya asked, stroking Lady's back. Lady's tail wagged enthusiastically.

"I took her out when I got home, but another walk wouldn't hurt. Oh, and Rickon is coming over soon, he texted earlier that he'd be over once got off work, but he wants to use the shower. Apparently he fell in some mud while tracking one of the lone wolves today," Sansa said. Arya nodded, grabbed Lady's leash, and headed outside with Lady prancing at her heels.

The minute the door closed, Sansa grabbed her phone.

_**Oberyn:** A wolf pack sounds like a lovely family_

_**Sansa:** By the sound of it, you have your own pack :) Ellaria and four kids?_

_**Oberyn:** Eight, actually_

Sansa stared at her phone. She was sure he had mentioned only four children when they spoke last weekend. Sansa replayed the conversation in her head. One child he didn't know about when he was 19, Obara. Then three more before he met Ellaria, and she made him go to therapy and then he chose to raise his children. Sansa realized what she had missed.

_**Sansa:** So you and Ellaria have four kids together?_

Sansa waited for Oberyn's reply, and when it didn't come immediately, she began measuring her wet ingredients. When that was done and he still hadn't replied, she began grating her cheese.

 _He's probably doing a practice bake, or eating dinner, or helping one of the kids with homework,_ Sansa told herself, shaking her head as if that would shoo away her mild anxiety. Cheese grated, she finished mixing her ingredients and began shaping her loaves. As soon as her hands were covered in flour and sticky dough, her phone buzzed several times.

 _Typical,_ Sansa thought, exasperated. Determined to resist the urge to immediately wash her hands and check the phone, Sansa worked the dough for a bit longer than was probably necessary before setting the loaves on the cookie sheet. She washed her hands thoroughly, put the bread in the oven, and set the timer before Sansa let herself look at her phone.

It was a selfie of Oberyn, Ellaria, and four girls. They were standing in a kitchen together, hands raised to wave. Oberyn's hand was covered in flour, and the oldest girl had flour on her head, as if Oberyn had ruffled her hair before remembering what he was doing.

All four girls had rich brown-black hair like their parents. The oldest girl looked to be in her teens, with Oberyn's dark eyes and a long braid. She was making a mock threatening face and pointing a butterknife at Oberyn. The girl next to her looked to be a couple years younger, with her hair cut short like Ellaria’s and a big grin that revealed braces. She was wearing yellow gloves, as though she'd been helping with dishes. In the middle stood two younger girls, both with Ellaria's light brown eyes. The taller one was holding a small green snake curled around her wrist, and the smallest one had a couple of teeth missing. Ellaria stood by Oberyn's side, grinning mischievously at the camera.

_**Oberyn:** Say hello to Elia, Obella, Dorea, and Loreza_

_**Oberyn:** Dorea and Loreza are the youngest, and they would like me to tell you that they prefer Doree and Loree_

_**Oberyn:** The one threatening my life is Elia, and the one with her hair cut short is Obella_

_**Oberyn:** I'm baking so I'm using voice to text, and so they hear everything I'm sending you. _

Sansa's heart twinged. They were absolutely adorable. Absurdly, irresistibly adorable. For a moment Sansa let herself imagine being there with them, laughing and playing and baking. There was a smudge of flour on the end of Oberyn's nose, and Sansa wanted to kiss it. But no- this was a happy family, a _complete_ happy family. There was no place for Sansa between Ellaria and Oberyn.

"I knew it!" Arya yelled from the door. Sansa jumped, almost dropping her phone.

"Ha! She got you," Rickon said, coming up behind Arya. His dark red hair was sticking up at odd angles where he’d gotten mud in it, and he had Lady's leash in his hand. Slung over Rickon’s shoulder was his emergency backpack with a change of clothes- most of the wolf recovery employees kept one on hand, in case of mud emergency, or, on one notable occasion, a skunk encounter.

“I hate both of you,” Sansa said grimly. They both snorted.

“C’mon, show me,” Arya said, coming over to the kitchen. Surrendering, Sansa handed Arya her phone. Arya scrolled up.

"Of course you talk about wolves... blah blah... oh man, cute family." Arya clicked on the photo, making it full screen before she showed Rickon. Rickon nodded approvingly.

"Very cute. Uh, who are they?" Rickon asked. Arya grinned.

"He's-"

"One of the other bakers, Oberyn, and his wife and kids." Sansa said, cutting Arya off and giving her a death glare.

"Oh, cool. Smells good in here, by the way," Rickon said, taking off Lady's leash and hanging it up by the door, along with his jacket.

"Thanks, I just put the bread in so it should be out in about 40, 45 minutes." Sansa said. Rickon groaned.

“I’m starving. At least I’ve got time to shower,” Rickon said, heading off to Sansa’s bathroom.

Sansa began washing the dishes, and Arya sat on the floor and began playing tug of war with Lady and her favorite knotted rope. Sansa thought she was safe, but after about five minutes Arya spoke.

"So... has he been flirting with you? Like, if there weren't a wife in that photo, I'd say he's definitely into you."

Sansa sighed, scrubbing a particularly stubborn bit of flour stuck in the mixing bowl.

"He keeps looking at me. Not in a creepy way like Petyr did, Oberyn looks at me like I'm some fascinating snake he wants to understand." Sansa said finally. Arya raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

Damn her sister and her intuition. Sansa grimaced.

"And he seems delighted whenever we end up sitting near each other, and he seemed pleased when I accidentally held his hand during judging, and he completely zoned out when I, uh, I wiped some icing off his cheek and then forgot what I was doing and put my finger in my mouth to clean it off." Sansa said, speaking quickly, well aware that she was turning bright pink.

Arya blinked.

"And he... told you about his wife and kids. _He_ told you? On purpose?" Arya said, sounding extremely skeptical.

"Yeah. And then his wife video called him, and he asked me to stay and say hello to her. She, uh, Ellaria scolded him for not texting me his thesis yet," Sansa said. "And, uh, she scolded him for not telling her how pretty I was."

Arya's eyebrows were practically in her hairline. She tilted her head, thinking.

"Sansa," Arya said slowly. "Has Oberyn been flirting with anyone else like this?"

Sansa thought for a moment.

"He's pretty friendly to everyone, and I've seen him and Shae chatting sometimes, but I don't think so," Sansa said.

Arya got up and began pacing. Sansa rinsed the bowl, set it aside to dry, and began loading the dishwasher. Finally, Arya spoke.

"Sansa, I might be crazy, but I think they're _both_ into you."

Sansa dropped the measuring cup she was holding. It landed in the middle of the dishwasher with a clang and fell under the rack.

"Arya, that's not funny," Sansa said.

"No, I'm serious," Arya insisted. "Hold up, I have an idea..."

Arya came over to the kitchen, grabbed Sansa's phone, and began typing in password combinations.

"Arya!" Sansa protested. She was kneeling on the kitchen floor and reaching into the dishwasher to extract the errant measuring cup.

"Too late!" Arya said victoriously, opening Sansa's texts and starting to dictate.

_**Sansa:** hey this is Arya, cute kids, you should see this picture of Sansa_

_**Sansa:** would love to hear what you and Ellaria think_

"Oh, gods, what photo are you sending?" Sansa asked, emerging from the dishwasher to see Arya scrolling through photos. Arya smirked.

"Oh, no. Oh, no no no," Sansa pleaded. She heard a small swoosh sound as Arya hit send.

After Joffrey, Sansa almost never wore sundresses. Then, a few years ago, Arya had pointed out that Sansa could sew lace over the open back of one of her favorite old dresses. Her back would be covered, and Sansa could wear the dress. In a fit of excitement, Sansa had spent an entire weekend sewing on the lace backing, and she had worn the dress when they visited mother the next weekend at Winterfell.

In the photo, Sansa sat on lush green grass, her hair flowing loosely down her back and shining radiantly in the sun, like waves of flame. She was crowned with a garland of wood anemone. Her deep green dress had a round neckline that exposed Sansa's ample cleavage. Sansa's long legs stretched out on the grass, bare up to her mid-thigh. Sansa had not realized until later that the dress was from before her final growth spurt. Sansa's deep blue eyes looked straight at the camera, a shy smile on her face that brought out her dimples.

Arya had taken the photo, with Sansa's permission, and had immediately shown everyone. Sansa loved the photo, but it also embarrassed her. The woman in the photo looked perfect, and Sansa wasn't perfect. It was just a moment, a good angle, good lighting.

Sansa’s phone buzzed in Arya’s hand. Arya read the text, snorted, and handed Sansa her phone.

_**Oberyn** : Not until you give Sansa back her phone_

_**Sansa** : It’s me._

_**Oberyn** : I think you look like a faerie queen to whom I would gladly swear fealty _

_**Oberyn:** Ellaria says she would be honored to paint you, someday, if you are willing_

_**Oberyn:** And she says she would have gone north long ago, if she knew such faeries lived there_

Sansa silently handed Arya the phone, her heart thrumming in her ears. Arya read the texts, then looked at Sansa, eyebrows raised. At that moment, Rickon walked in, toweling off his hair.

“What’d I miss?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came to me in a burst of inspiration and I am screaming. Please come scream with me in the comments :D
> 
> [Wood anemone](https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/media/4301/wood-anemone-close-up-wtml-1013803-fran-hitchinson.jpg) are from Scotland, so they seemed appropriate for the north. Here's Sansa's [ dress](https://shopee.sg/Laeta-Eyelet-Hem-Tie-Strap-Low-Cut-Mini-Dress-i.32019418.2300281065), though I imagine it in green. 
> 
> Because I'm a perfectionist maniac, I am doing wolf and snake research as needed. I also looked into whether amateur MMA fighters get paid- they don't. Arya as a gym teacher was hilariously perfect.


	6. Family Dinner in Dorne

Still Tuesday Evening

"Well, what does everyone think?" Oberyn asked, looking around the dining room table at the sea of chewing faces. He hid it well, but Ellaria could tell he was slightly anxious.

"Yummy!" Loree said, through a mouthful of bread.

"Chew, swallow, _then_ speak, mija," Ellaria said, breaking off a piece of bread and popping it in her mouth. Loree ducked her head sheepishly.

"Yes, mami," Loree said. Doree giggled.

"Mine doesn't have any cheese," Obella said, frowning as she turned her slice over.

"Mine either," Elia complained. "It's all onion, papi."

Oberyn frowned and began jotting down the adjustments in his notebook. Ellaria smiled fondly. Oberyn looked so serious, working on his bakes. He still had a few bits of flour in his tousled hair and in his mustache. Her beloved husband. Ellaria's sharp eyes took in his broad shoulders, his strong arms, the way he sat in his chair as though it were a throne.

"I've got plenty of proscuitto, manchego, and onion, my love- I think it needs more even mixing," Ellaria said.

Oberyn nodded, and Ellaria smirked. She would have to tease Oberyn later. He was not too proud to admit that his mixing might have been distracted by texting with Sansa, but his reaction would still be funny.

"Now, girls, what have we got planned for this weekend when papi is away baking?" Oberyn asked, picking up his own slice of quick bread. Ellaria and Oberyn kept track of the girls' activities on a shared calendar, but Oberyn often feigned forgetfulness to get the girls to share.

"Horseback riding lessons!" Elia half-shouted. Oberyn and Ellaria both chuckled. The girl was practically a horse herself. The lessons had been Doran's gift for Elia's last name day. Ellaria sometimes despairingly thought that the girl would smell of horse until she was old and grey.

"Volume, mija, volume," Ellaria said casually, taking another bite of bread.

"Bella, how are you liking the lessons?" Oberyn asked. Obella followed Elia in almost everything, including tearing about on horses.

"It's nice," Bella said shyly. "This weekend I get to switch from a pony to a horse, like Elia."

"You're ready, Bella, you'll be fine" Elia said encouragingly. Ellaria and Oberyn looked at each other and smiled.

"And how about my little troublemakers?" Oberyn said, looking at Doree and Loree. Doree was attacking her slice of bread, while Loree wiggled a loose tooth with her tongue.

"Mami said we can go to the Water Gardens with Trystane, if it's warm enough," Loree said, pausing briefly in her tooth wiggling.

The [Water Gardens](https://st.hzcdn.com/simgs/pictures/pools/memorial-moroccan-jauregui-architecture-interiors-construction-img~e8b1449c05008caa_14-9099-1-309b92f.jpg) were Dorne's largest complex of public pools. First built hundreds, perhaps thousands of years ago, the gardens had been expanded until they covered hundreds of acres. Orange trees grew among the pools, providing ready snacks for the thousands of children who came to swim and play. Ellaria's heart ached for a moment. Oberyn loved taking the girls to the Water Gardens. They would ride on his shoulders and romp and splash and play, and he would get half drowned by the girls and their friends, grinning the entire time.

"Sounds perfect," Oberyn said. "And how will mami spend her time?" Oberyn said, turning to Ellaria.

"Doran will be picking up the girls, so I can finish my painting," Ellaria said. Oberyn smiled.

When they first met, Ellaria had been finishing up her Masters in Art at Sunspear University. One day, Oberyn had been wandering the art wing and had glimpsed one of her [paintings.](https://www.altezzastudio.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/Coral-flowers-1.jpg) He told her later that he had stopped in his tracks, enraptured by the flow of the brush strokes, the careful use of color. But Oberyn had declared that nothing could compare to how enraptured he was when he met her. Ellaria had been intrigued by him, but refused to accept his courtship until he had taken care of himself first. And now, he was the devoted husband and father she had known he could be.

Oberyn's phone buzzed. He glanced at Ellaria, his cheeks turning slightly pink. Oberyn looked slightly embarassed. He was not a schoolboy to blush over merely texting with a beautiful woman. Ellaria raised her eyebrows and winked. The girls were chattering about the best pools at the Water Gardens, oblivious to their silent conversation.

"Go ahead, my love," Ellaria said, mouth quirking up in a smile. Oberyn texted for a few minutes, then showed her the phone.

_**Sansa:** I... I don't know what to say to that, to be honest_

_**Oberyn:** I am sorry if we upset you_

_**Sansa:** I'm not upset, I'm... confused_

_**Oberyn:** May we video call you after dinner?_

After showing Ellaria the phone, Oberyn watched it, waiting for the reply. It did not come. Ellaria gestured for the girls to begin cleaning up from dinner, then got up from her seat and went to stand behind him.

"My love, come back," Ellaria said, running her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

Oberyn looked up, his dark eyes slightly distant. Oh, how she loved his eyes. The girls were clearing up the table, carrying dishes to the kitchen.

"I find it strange to feel like this," Oberyn confessed once all the girls were gone. Ellaria could hear a clattering in the kitchen as the girls put their dishes in the dishwasher.

" _You_ find it strange?" Ellaria said, with a little laugh. " _I_ have not even met her yet, and here I am, besotted by all you have told me and a few minutes on the phone."

The redhaired woman intrigued her. Ellaria loved other women, loved their delicate lips and their flowing hair, their hips whether they be striped from childbirth or as unstained as a fresh canvas. But Sansa... there was something about Sansa. So lovely, so young, and yet a hint of sadness, of wisdom gained through pain, shimmered from behind those deep blue eyes. Those eyes... how could she recreate the color of those eyes? With lapis lazuli? Ellaria had a tiny pot of the expensive pigment, a gift from Oberyn.

Oberyn's phone buzzed, interrupting Ellaria's reverie. Oberyn looked up at Ellaria, and she squeezed his hand before placing the phone on the table.

_**Sansa:** My sister and my little brother are over, can we do it in a couple hours or is that too late?_

_**Oberyn:** That's fine. We're happy to wait_

* * *

Time seemed to pass at a crawl. Elia gleefully demolished poor distracted Oberyn at cyvasse, while Ellaria absentmindedly helped Bella, Doree, and Loree with a puzzle they'd been working on.

Finally it was time to put Doree and Loree to bed. They went without complaint, put on their pajamas, brushed their teeth, put their clothes in the hamper, and clambered into their twin beds. Oberyn sat on a chair between them, and read them their current favorite story, The Dozy Dragon, while Ellaria snuggled Loree, having succumbed to Loree's enormous puppy dog eyes.

When Oberyn and Ellaria finally made it back downstairs, Elia and Bella were busy discussing which horse would be the best fit for Bella on Saturday.

"Girls, when is your bedtime?" Oberyn asked sternly.

"10:00," Elia and Bella chorused.

"And what time is it now?" Ellaria asked. Elia turned to look at the clock, her braid swinging behind her.

"8:38," Elia said. Ellaria smiled.

"Your papi and I are going to go chat in my studio, okay? We expect you upstairs on time." Ellaria said. Oberyn wagged his finger sternly, trying to keep his face serious.

"Yes, mami," Elia and Bella said, returning to their discussion. Oberyn slipped his arm around Ellaria as they walked to her studio.

"Come here, mi cariña," Oberyn said quietly, squeezing her against his side. Ellaria laughed, and slipped her arm around his waist, looking up at him. At just over 6 feet, Oberyn was the perfect height. Tall enough to tuck her head under his chin, but short enough to reach up for a kiss.

"She should call soon," Ellaria said. Ellaria's skin prickled with anticipation.

"I worry that we have come on too fast," Oberyn confessed. "I think she has been hurt before."

Ellaria hummed in agreement as she pushed open the door to her studio.

"Perhaps. But we cannot treat her like spun glass," Ellaria said, settling on the little sofa.

"No. No, you're right. She is strong," Oberyn said thoughtfully, sitting down beside Ellaria and resting his arm across her shoulders.

Both Oberyn and Ellaria required regular touch, whether it be hugging their girls or kissing each other. The bake off weekends had proved a little rough on both of them- they were rarely apart for an entire day. Thankfully, Daemon had been happy to occupy Ellaria last weekend. Daemon had zero interest in children, but he was a considerate lover, and the arrangement worked for everyone.

At last, Oberyn's phone began buzzing. After a hopeful glance at Ellaria, he accepted the video call.

"Uh, hello there," Sansa said, brushing her hair out of her face. Her glorious hair was loose, draping in front of her shoulders and chest. The lighting did not do justice to that hair, Ellaria was sure of it.

"Hello," Oberyn said, glancing at Ellaria.

"Hello, Sansa," Ellaria said, pushing aside her thoughts of copper tresses gleaming in the sun of the Water Gardens.

"So, uhm, I've not... I'm worried I've misunderstood," Sansa said softly, biting her lip.

"Misunderstood what?" Ellaria said gently. "If you tell us what you think you understand, we can tell you if you are correct."

Sansa hesitated, her blue eyes shifting back and forth as she thought. Then, she looked at the camera. Oh, Ellaria would happily drown in those eyes.

"I... think that both of you are interested in me?" Sansa said. Oberyn shifted slightly beside Ellaria.

"Yes," Oberyn said, his voice warm. Ellaria smiled.

"Oberyn and I have no secrets. Before and after we married, we have had our own... dalliances, and we have shared partners. Oberyn came home the first weekend gushing about this baker from the North, this sweet woman with beautiful bakes. I hadn't see him so giddy in a long time," Ellaria said, giving Oberyn a teasing look.

"I was not giddy," Oberyn protested. Sansa laughed, as Ellaria had hoped she would.

"From everything Oberyn had said, I was intrigued, and so I was happy when you agreed to say hello last weekend," Ellaria continued. "I must confess to being a little overwhelmed myself- I've not felt such a spark since I met Oberyn."

Sansa inhaled, thinking. Ellaria and Oberyn remained silent, waiting patiently.

"I... I've felt it too. I think," Sansa said. "It's overwhelming. I haven't really dated in, um, a while, let alone dated two people." She did not sound scandalized, which was a good sign.

"There is no need to rush anything," Ellaria said gently. "You have baking to worry about. But may Oberyn give me your number? I'd like to be able to text with you too, if that isn't too much?"

Sansa bit her lip, her cheeks a pale pink. Then Sansa smiled. Oh, those dimples, Ellaria thought. Those dimples were deadly.

"Yes, he may. I... were you serious, about the painting? You're a painter?" Sansa asked. Ellaria smiled.

"Yes, it's how Oberyn and I met, actually. Would you like to hear the story?" Ellaria asked. Sansa nodded.

"No, let me tell it," Oberyn said, "you always leave out the best parts-"

"You can take turns," Sansa said, smiling. Ellaria felt her own cheeks turning warm.

_Oh. Oh, dear._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am screaming. Have we reached maximum fluff? Is it possible? This was originally going to be an Oberyn POV, but then I realized it made much more sense as an Ellaria POV. 
> 
> Oberyn's bake is based off of Alvin's proscuitto, manchego, and balsamic onion bread. Manchego is a Spanish cheese, so it was perfect for a Dornish bake.


End file.
